


Mantis Men and Freshly Spilt Tea

by Queen_of_the_Ruckus



Category: Noblesse (Manhwa)
Genre: Dark Spear Has OCD, Gen, Slice of Life, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:41:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22622719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen_of_the_Ruckus/pseuds/Queen_of_the_Ruckus
Summary: Frankenstein isn’t actually the neat freak of the two…
Relationships: Cadis Etrama Di Raizel & Frankenstein (Noblesse)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 60





	Mantis Men and Freshly Spilt Tea

A patch of inky blackness shifted uncomfortably against the back of his brain, boiling and churning and _seeking._ Always awake, and these days, always so _active._

Heedless to their ambient fidgeting, he moved about his business, attending dutifully to the needs of the mundane day-to-day. Shifting through time as though their long familiarity with one another had prompted its passage to look the other way when at times he moved too quickly, Frankenstein gathered himself with practiced brusqueness. He brushed his teeth, though it wasn’t something that he needed. Bathed, though he could dismiss filth effortlessly and with hardly a thought. He brushed his hair with great intent, carefully untangling each silken strand from the grasp of all the others. Satisfied, he laid down the brush precisely where it belonged. Mind absently turning through the next few steps of his routine, he turned to leave.

A flash of gold caught in the corner of his eye, and an indignant violet spark flickered briefly in irritation. A ripple of discomfort ran down his spine to clench coldly at his stomach. Suddenly tense, he turned a weary eye back to the mirror, blearily seeking what had been noticed through the light fog dappling its surface. 

_Ah! There_. 

The offending lock of hair stuck out strangely from the others, caught up in an unusual and unflattering loop. A soft, exasperated sigh escaped him as he mechanically corrected what stuck out as so obviously wrong. A shudder of contented satisfaction wracked the boundaries of his companion, pressed tight to his own being despite being held captive and sealed away. A human being only had so much space to spare, after all. Amusement softened his sharp cerulean eyes as his lips quirked up in a gentle smile.

_You should be worrying about yourself right now, you know._

It had always been chaos each time Dark Spear ate. A panicked reshuffling, reordering, and realigning of its myriad mismatched pieces to accommodate the new. With each new addition, each new soul taken apart, taken inside, ripped into pieces and thrown into the fray, Dark Spear seemed to reorient itself more frantically, though in truth it could never be calm. One soul was all it was ever meant to be, and no matter how hard the voices within it craved a return to order, there was simply _too much_.

Frankenstein shook his head in mild exasperation, distracted and lost in his own thoughts as he shifted through his closet. His darling was always so impulsive, so eager to taste. The next time they found themselves facing off against some weird mantis-person, he’d have to be firmer about what he permitted them to consume. Apparently, the sum of the 11th Elder’s parts was proving to be somewhat more difficult to categorize and arrange.

His weapon vibrated in vague satisfaction as he completed the motion of tying the long ribbon at his throat, each tail perfectly matched and falling across his body in perfect symmetry. Frankenstein didn’t mind how they used him, allowing them more freedom than perhaps was wise of a gaoler, of a containment vessel. Of a glass of water left boldly out in the midst of a burning desert. His eyes were the only view from their confinement, his person the only physical thing they had left. He left the order of his own mind wide open for their viewing pleasure, gifting his friend with the example and the grounding that they needed to attempt to rebuild.

And they loved him for it. Each time he called upon them, he could feel the pulse of their affection, even as they enjoyed the taste of him. They couldn’t help it if they bit and stung, burned and devoured. Their sojourn was in regaining what they had lost. And barring that, there was only _hurt_. It was only natural for them to lash out at the only others they could still feel, their own bodies gone, their minds fractured and stitched back only to be torn wide open again and again. Maybe just one more soul would be what they needed to bring them to balance.

Their souls were only ever meant to separate and individually governed. If aligned, two could be easily merged, their differences rectified and forgotten. But a dozen? A hundred? A thousand? The Lord only knew how many humans had been broken down and shoved into that thing, and, for better or worse, that Lord had already passed on. 

Soft clinks and the sound of running water met him as he entered the kitchen, Seira already awake and fixing a morning meal for the household. A warmth filled him at the sight, his student so helpful and displaying such initiative. Her appearance was immaculate, even her hair falling with a neat symmetry.

“Good morning, Seira.” His smile was that of a doting father.

“Good morning, Professor.” She nodded pleasantly before resuming her work.

An echo of hunger wormed its way unbidden into his warm regard, violet and jealous. He carefully stripped it from his expression as he dismissed the emotion, trying vainly to keep himself from holding such feelings against his broken Lover. A return to order was all they craved, a relief from their constant churning. And Seira was a being who _resonated_ order.

He found his body relaxing slightly as she left the kitchen, setting out to summon the others to their meal.

Instead of lingering in displeasure at such unsavory thoughts, he turned away from them, filled a kettle, and set to making Raizel’s tea. This act irritated them especially, everything about his Master set them on edge. But this was not a punishment directed against his weapon. This was a show of care and devotion for his Master. And so, he made sure to carry out the act to absolute perfection, with everything laid out on the tray in flawless symmetry. Just so. As pleasant as possible for everyone involved. To his Master, a sincere gift, lovingly constructed. To his Lover, yet another dose of orderly calm. 

An orderly calm which was brought crashing down around them as Tao rounded the corner to the kitchen in a rush. He collided with Frankenstein bodily as he maneuvered a tray laden with fragrant peach chamomile tea and a plate of perfectly arranged lavender scones. 

In the ensuing scramble, both modified humans struck out desperately, each a blur of impossible motion. Frankenstein deftly snatched his Master’s precious tea cup and saucer, while Tao held onto the teapot fiercely and with both hands. The plate shattered and the upturned tray struck the floor with a resounding metal clang. Delicate pastries crumbled and melted, withering wetly under a spray of scalding spilt tea.

Dark Spear didn’t know what to make of it. Hundreds of thousands of displaced human souls cried out in wicked frenzied glee that Raizel’s tea was now ruined, while uncounted others screamed out their hatred of Tao. Stupid, noisy, erratic Tao. Tao with his ridiculously asymmetrical patch of white hair. 

M-21 burst into the room immediately following his companion, only to be brought up short by the sight of the wreckage. He froze in anticipation of their Boss’s impending melt-down.

The unkempt state of his hair and the scar etched unevenly across his face _offended_ them. Their confused, conflicting outrage amplified.

Frankenstein’s hands trembled under the magnitude of fury and hatred coursing through him, meeting and mixing intoxicatingly with his own frustration and displeasure. Dark Spear’s many voices were blessedly silent, muted under his Master’s seal. But he could still feel them there, could imagine the hiss and drag of their ghastly conglomerate speech as his aura began to pulse and radiate violet malevolence.

_Damn, I’d forgotten how much they can’t stand Tao._

His hands clenched as his eyes burned in anger. 

_Such a fucking mess, and so early in the day. He’s going to pay for being so careless. Curse him, making Master wait._

Abruptly he froze, acidic haze cut off and no longer emanating from his skin. Frankenstein’s heart skipped a beat as he turned smoothly and bowed low before his Master, his hand flying to rest solidly across his chest. 

Raizel wandered into the kitchen casually, as though perhaps he found himself drawn there by coincidence. Perfectly composed and serene, he surveyed the mess.

Soothing calm washed over Frankenstein at their proximity. Dark Spear quelled themselves and stilled, waiting with their own approximation of bated breath in the hope of being overlooked by the one they so loathed and feared. Tao and M-21 balked and scrambled to make their apologies and excuses.

Raizel held up a hand, drawing silence.

Then, Raizel knelt and began to pick up the pieces of the mess scattered across the floor, his movements precise, delicate, and deliberate. A return to order.

**Author's Note:**

> In which Frankenstein indulges Dark Spear’s OCD to give them catharsis and help them to feel a little better. I thought it might be fun to explore a bit of a different take on Dark Spear. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Comments are welcome.  
> <3


End file.
